Into Darkness
by Shena1
Summary: Confined and surrounded by complete darkness - not sure where she is and completely alone - Beckett struggles to find the light... and Castle. Takes place early April in Season 6 - No Spoilers (No idea how to categorize this... so let's go with 'not fluffy') - COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1 **

Her eyes twitched slightly as her mind slowly returned from its dreamless oblivion. Her head was pounding and her thoughts were incoherent.

In a groggy stupor, she released a soft groan as her body curled up on its left side. Her fingers crawled up along her chest, trailing along her throat, massaging the edge of her face.

She suddenly stilled her movement when her thumb contacted something sticky lining the edge of her mouth.

Beckett winced slightly as she began to register the sensation of the cold, solid surface which was pressed against her left cheek. Her eyelids twitched, the stinging of her right temple catching her off guard. The coppery flavour sheathing the tip of her tongue caused her to gag, bringing her from the edge of obscurity to a fully alert state as her eyes shot open.

But even with her eyes wide and aware, she could see nothing.

She was surrounded by complete darkness - no sound, no light teased her senses. Pressing her palm against the cool surface beneath her, she surmised that she was laying directly on a concrete slab - which explained the intense chill that was coursing through her.

Her muscles rebelled as she forced herself onto her back, every nerve exploding, every bone stiffening. It hurt so much to move, but she knew she couldn't just remain stationary. Stagnant.

That's not who Kate Beckett was.

Very slowly, she stretched her arm above her now horizontal body, the cold of the concrete below biting her spine. Feeling nothing but empty space above her, Beckett ascertained it was safe to sit up and slowly coaxed herself into a semi-seated position.

Her head continued to throb relentlessly and her thoughts were fuzzy… but...

_Castle… _

"Castle?" she groaned quietly, the syllables choking her as they exited her throat.

She was answered by deafening silence.

"Castle?" she forced again, voice hoarse and laboured.

Her open palm painted the floor, tracing the area around her, hoping her outstretched fingers would discover his solid form laying close to hers.

Nothing.

Wiping her face with her frigid palms, Kate tried desperately to recall her last memory before waking up in this black hole.

She'd been with Castle, that much was clear, but she couldn't recollect where they'd been… what they'd been doing.

Her eyes shut of their own volition as she pressed a hand to her abdomen, feeling the soft cashmere of her turtle-neck sweater enrobing her torso. Her palm continued to smooth across the jeans covering her thighs. She was still dressed in the same clothes she could last recall wearing.

Pressing the pad of her thumb to the edge of her lower lip, she wiped the drying blood from the corner of her mouth.

What the hell was going on? How long had she been here?

Where the hell was _here_?

Pausing to reflect for a brief moment, she prudently extended her arms, stretching them out at her sides. Inch by painstaking inch, Beckett continued to straighten her elbows, reaching into the black abyss - not quite hesitant, yet anxious about what they might contact.

A blade…

A spike…

Something that might sever a hand without warning…

She almost gasped when both arms suddenly stopped moving, rigid, as her right hand came in contact with something cold… and jagged... and sharp. She remained frozen for a few seconds, immobile. Waiting for something to happen.

For pain to strike.

For electricity to shock.

But nothing did.

Nothing.

Her right hand began to snake along the surface it had contacted, tracing the not quite smooth surface. She hit a razor-like edge, slicing one of her fingers on the coarse and sharp ridges.

She instinctively brought her finger to her mouth, gritting her teeth as she hissed, alleviating the pulsating pain of the shallow cut with her warm mouth - her saliva a soothing balm.

Stone. And mortar. She was in a room. A room no wider than five feet, walls made of rough stone… and she was alone.

Alone.

In darkness.

But all rooms had to have doors.

Head still spinning, side of her face still quite tender, she didn't quite have the strength to stand. Beckett eased herself onto her side, forcing herself onto her knees, holding up the painful weight of her body using her outstretched arms.

Finding the wall with her fingers, she gingerly trailed her left hand down the uneven, craggy surface until she met the floor. She cautiously traced the edge of the floor with her fingers, crawling slowly across the cement surface, maybe a few feet, until she found the corner.

She continued to methodically map the space with her sense of touch, not tracing much more of the stony barrier when the solid edge of wall meeting floor disappeared.

Cold air kissed the tips of her fingers, the empty space about half an inch high, and they contacted nothing else for about two feet. The door? Possibly… though there was no light pouring in from under it, so it was hard to tell, but the surface was flat and metallic, so it was probable.

Attempting to stand, Beckett pressed her torso against the wall, leaning on the ridged stones to brace herself, but her knees buckled under her arduous weight. Her body was drained of energy; every muscle throbbed, and every bone ached.

Collapsing under her dense lethargy, Beckett curled into the corner - legs semi-coiled underneath her. Left shoulder propped against the metal surface, she wrapped her right hand into a tight fist and proceeded to pound on the door.

The deafening sound of the vibrating metal reverberated through the air, the booming noises echoing off the stone walls, thundering through the confined space.

She pummeled the metal relentlessly for several minutes until the side of her hand began to pulsate due to the pain. She cradled her aching right hand within her left palm, massaging the tender skin. She was certain she'd have a terrible bruise, but that didn't really seem to matter in the scheme of things.

She was in confined utter darkness.

She had no conceivable means of escape.

And she had no idea where Castle was… if he was okay… if he was safe.

Closing her eyes, Beckett's head leaned into the wall at her back, her left cheek pressing partially against stone, partially against the metal door.

Her brain was racing, but she slowly began to calm her thoughts. Focus her mind. The blurred image of cobalt blue began to clear, the defined shape of his piercing eyes staring back at her, warm and comforting.

She felt her heart rate steady itself as she pictured his lips, a slight smile teasing at their edges. Eyes shut, she couldn't stop herself from smiling back - allowing the ghost of his presence to calm her, give her strength, help her concentrate.

The image of his face unified - features so real that she would have sworn that he was right there with her, in her shadowed confinement.

But he wasn't.

Seeing him, his face, right there in front of her… she wanted to reach out. Caress his soft skin. Hold his beautiful face with her warm palm. Press her forehead to his, breathe the same heated air.

"Castle…" she muttered, voice eking from her lips in a raspy, pained whisper.

But her eyes shot open at a sudden sound she didn't expect. It was small and muffled, but she'd know it anywhere.

"Beckett?"

* * *

xxxxx

**honeyandvodka** **challenged me to write an _"epic, multi-chapter fic"_**

**So here we go...**

**And I'm going to attempt to pull on heart-strings a little.**

**I hope it lives up to her expectations.**

xxxxx

**So there you go... Judge away.**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

He didn't remember drinking anything last night; he couldn't understand why he felt hung-over. Rhythmic drumming echoed through his skull as he struggled to move, his left arm flopping down across his chest.

His bed felt hard… unforgiving... as he lay on his right side, arm curled under his head in lieu of a pillow.

An uncomfortable chill rushed through his core all the way to his feet. No blanket. He probably rolled off the bed again while he and Beckett were… were…

He couldn't remember what he did last night.

He remembered being with Beckett. They'd left the Precinct late; it was dark. They were walking. Talking about something. The case?... He can't remember. And then…

The thumping between his ears was relentless in its attack. His body felt heavy - like it was made of lead. He winced, releasing a silent cry of pain as he attempted to move his left arm. Something pulled against his left side… the pain incredibly intense.

He knew that feeling. Last time he felt it, he was a teenager... when he'd tried out for his school's hockey team. He'd lost a tooth… and cracked two ribs.

Cracked ribs?!

His eyes flew open at the realization that something wasn't right. And he saw… darkness. Darkness all around except a single beam of light that was snaking through a crack in the wall. The stone wall. Highlighting a small spot on the concrete floor near his feet.

_What the hell?_ What's going on? Where was he?

And where was Beckett?

Castle opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Needles pricked along the inside of his dry throat. Trying again, it came out in a practically inaudible whisper. "B-beck…"

The relentless pounding finally quieted as he repeated the harsh whisper of her name once more before he heard it… distant and weak… but it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard in his life.

"Castle…"

"Beckett?" he choked out painfully, voice raspy and demure.

"Castle?" he heard her repeat, tone a bit more frantic. _"Castle!"_

* * *

She tried desperately to focus on the source of his voice, but the sound bounced off the stone walls. Forcing herself to her floor - ignoring the writhing pain coursing through her - she pressed her cheek to the cement.

"Castle, talk to me!" she croaked, trying to get her voice to carry into the darkness underneath the space at the bottom of the metal door. "Where are you?"

"On the floor," he muttered gravelly, voice muffled, "in a stone room…"

Beckett lifted her head quickly, turning back to face the darkness inside her black, stone cage.

They're in the same room!

Getting back onto her hands and knees, Kate proceeded to slowly crawl back into the inky space, feeling her way along the floor, hoping against hope to find him.

But when she hit the back wall, her world crumbled in on her.

He wasn't there.

"Castle, say something…" she muttered, words stinging in her throat. "Are you okay?"

He groaned meekly before finding his voice again. "I think I might have some cracked ribs…"

His voice was closer, not as echoey. She quieted her mind and closed her eyes, trusting his voice to guide her - as it always has.

"...and other than the fact that this room could use a few homey touches…"

She leaned towards the base of the right side wall, his voice getting louder.

"...such as a window, I'm okay," he gritted, his voice hoarse.

Running her hand along the bottom of the jagged stone wall, she found it…

"Castle, I think we're in adjacent rooms," she uttered, "and I think there's a hole in the base of the wall…"

* * *

Battling through the debilitating pain, Castle slowly eased himself into a semi-seated position. Her voice was so close to his feet - the hole must be on the other wall.

Gingerly sliding himself across the floor, he crossed over to the opposing side - only a few feet away. The slight beam of light cutting through the crack between the rocks sliced along his thighs.

"Beckett?" he gasped, the side of his torso hurting like a bitch.

"I'm here," her voice echoed, harsh and dry.

"Are you hurt?"

He traced the fingers of his right hand along the bottom of the wall, edging the bumpy stones in search of an empty space.

"Well, I feel like I've been run over by a truck," he heard her reply flatly, "and I might have a black eye..."

"So just another day at the office?" he joked half-heartedly, methodically skimming his hand along the wall, shuffling carefully as to not cause himself further injury.

"Yeah," she sighed, coughing a bit.

He attempted to grin through the pain when his fingers finally found what they were searching for…

Leaning his back heavily against the stone wall, he pushed his index and middle fingers into the small space. He released a heavy, relieved sigh - a genuine smile crossing his lips - when his fingertips contacted hers.

* * *

Back pressed against the wall, hand reaching into the abyss of the hole, Beckett felt herself exhale softly at the sensation of Castle's warm fingertips curling around hers.

Magical fingers that could take away all of her anguish, all of her sorrows, with a simple touch.

Fingers that could play a symphony across her skin, alighting a blazing inferno of desire one minute, or calming her completely the next. Fingers that could speak volumes as they held her hips, traced along her spine, caressed her cheeks, tangled in her hair… worshipped her body...

She closed her eyes and imagined the two of them sitting back to back - not separated by an impenetrable pile of masonry - leaning against each other, supporting each other, fingers twining as they enjoyed the peace of being together. Maybe as they read; maybe as they searched through case files; maybe just_ being_.

But no.

They were trapped. Confined. And deliberately separated from one another.

They were - literally and figuratively - in the dark.

She felt the steady rhythm of Castle's pulse through the tips of his fingers, the thumping pattern matching her own.

She took comfort in the feel of his skin lightly brushing hers - just enough to ground her, to ground them both. To remind her they were both alive and they were both okay.

For now.

Her skull pressed back against the wall as she released a heavy, exasperated sigh, hearing his voice speak the exact words that exited her own mouth: "What the hell is going on?"

.

* * *

xxxxx

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed.**

**I'm still a bit shocked and humbled that people even know my fics exist... let alone like them.**

**Thanks.**

xxxxx

**Judge away... :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

_They were trapped. Confined. And deliberately separated from one another._

_They were - literally and figuratively - in the dark._

_She felt the steady rhythm of Castle's pulse through the tips of his fingers, the thumping pattern matching her own._

_She took comfort in the feel of his skin lightly brushing hers - just enough to ground her, to ground them both. To remind her they were both alive and they were both okay._

_For now._

_Her skull pressed back against the wall as she released a heavy, exasperated sigh, hearing his voice speak the exact words that exited her own mouth: "What the hell is going on?"_

* * *

He closed his eyes, allowing the enigmatic darkness to envelop around him. He had no idea how long they'd been sitting like this - in absolute silence, listening only to the faint sound of each other's laboured breathing, tips of their fingers lighting brushing thanks to that slight hole in the wall that was separating them from each other.

The discomfort due to his fractured rib would not ebb, though he managed to position himself in a semi-comfortable position against the wall so that the pain was minimal if he didn't move.

Castle released a belaboured sigh, coughing roughly due to the dryness of his parched throat.

"You okay?"

The concern in her voice cut him to the quick. His side was throbbing, his breathing painful. Her voice was weak, hoarse. She was probably injured. Maybe bleeding.

But he didn't know.

Because he couldn't see her.

He could hardly even feel her.

"Yeah…" he wheezed, pressing the back of his head against the stone wall at his back. "No…" he then admitted after a few seconds.

He felt her fingertips twitch against his, like she was straining to link her slender, chilled fingers with his – reach far enough through the small tunnel to perhaps grip a bit more of his hand.

Their fingertips brushed back and forth, wiggling slightly within the confines of the miniscule opening… but it did not help.

His heart thumped heavily in his chest as he heard her exasperated, despondent sigh echo in his ears. "Me too…"

* * *

And after a long extended silence, it happened. Unspoken – within the thunderous hush - as if they knew what the other was thinking... they simultaneously pulled their hands from the hole.

Kate rubbed her hand gently, tenderly massaging her fingers and knuckles as she heard Castle groan. Evidently his hand was just as sore and cramped as hers – having it shoved in such a small crevasse for so long was not at all comfortable.

"How's your rib?" she inquired with genuine concern, her voice demure, raspy.

He moaned a bit before replying. Not a great sign. "It's not bad as long as I don't move too much."

"And by 'too much' you mean-''

"—not at all," he remarked with a strained chuckle.

She could almost picture the ridiculous smirk on his face when he said that. Making light of bad situations. Coping as best he could. Trying to help her find any minute sense of joy.

But she couldn't.

He was hurt and she could do nothing to help him. Heck, she couldn't even help herself.

And it didn't help that she didn't know where they were or why they were here. And not knowing was more frustrating than anything.

She closed her eyes, names and faces rapidly flashing through her mind - trying desperately to find the answers to the unknown questions.

"I can hear you thinking." His deep, mellow voice filled her ears.

It was small, but the grin that tugged on the edges of her lips was her first genuine smile since she woke up in this black abyss hours ago. "Just trying to figure out who might have put us here," she explained, eyes still shut.

"I was thinking the same thing," Castle answered. "And I can only think of one person who hates us enough."

"Yeah," Beckett agreed.

"Jerry Tyson," he stated firmly at the exact moment that she growled, "Bracken."

Her eyes shot open at the mention of 3XK's name. "Tyson? Seriously Castle? You really think this is his doing?"

"I can't believe you'd think Bracken is behind this. Taking us captive? Imprisoning us like this? This isn't his style."

"I guess," she acquiesced, "but this doesn't seem like Tyson's M.O. either."

"But we can't know that for sure," he countered softly. "He seems to keep changing the rules of his game when it comes to us."

She couldn't help but nod to herself in agreement. That was true enough.

"And there's always Kelly Nieman to consider," he added. "Maybe she's involved in this somehow."

The detective contemplated for a moment. She'd forgotten about Kelly Nieman. About the plastic surgeon's unwelcome – okay… creepy – obsession with her face, her body, her very being. About her offer to make Beckett _perfect_.

She shuddered at the thought.

What if Castle was right?

What if Tyson and Nieman were working together?

What would they have planned for her? For Castle?

What if they had Esposito and Lanie too? Or Ryan? Or Martha and Alexis?

What was to say that they hadn't taken everyone who was important to her? Beat them. Tortured them.

Killed them.

Beckett's breath caught in her throat as her pulse began to race. _Oh my god_.

Others could be in trouble too and she could do nothing to save them!

* * *

He remained still, steadfast, leaning against the unforgiving stone wall, listening to his fiancée's rapid and uneven breathing.

"Hey… Beckett…" he whispered into the darkness, his gruff voice now calm and even. "Kate…"

"Castle, what if you're right? What if it is Tyson? What if…"

"Hey…" he interrupted softly. "We don't know anything for sure…"

The silence built between them, thick and agonizing.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, voice weak and raspy. "I just- I hate this…"

He heard her exhale heavily before she elaborated, evidently frustrated with their predicament. "I hate that I can't see anything... I hate that I don't know where we are... I hate that I don't know what's going on…"

Her voice trailed off. Unsure of what to say, he simply listened to her breathing, certain he could hear the thumping of her heart.

It was a few agonizing seconds before he dared to break the silence.

"I know the feeling," he breathed arduously. "I hate that I don't know who is doing this to us... I hate that I don't know how long we've been here…"

He exhaled sharply before adding, "Mostly, I hate that I can't touch you."

The deep silence pierced the cold, stale air before he heard her reply… a slight tear welling in the corner of his eye as he listened to her whispered words. Words uttered with such sincerity, such love.

"Babe… you _do_ touch me. Every day. Right now. With your words."

* * *

Beckett felt herself melt into the wall after speaking the words that had been caught in her throat for so long. For years.

She was sure he knew how much her words could calm her. How she often depended on him to say something reassuring during the darkest moments of her life.

But she'd never told him. Not directly.

And as much as it was liberating to admit it out loud at long last – to tell him straight up, without subtext – it hurt as well. Because he didn't see her face – the unadulterated affection in her eyes - as she revealed the depth of her heart.

"Tell me?..." Kate muttered, voice mellow as she turned her cheek against the wall, her eyelids heavy.

She heard Castle exhale deeply into the dank, empty space beyond the wall.

She unconsciously ran her splayed palm across her abdomen, wrapping her arms around herself, aching to have him near. To taste, to caress, to kiss. Yearning for his warm embrace. Just wanting him.

"Tell me how you'd touch me…"

* * *

He felt the weight of his body sink against the stones at his back. His arms collapsed at his sides, semi-fisted hands dropping to the concrete floor. Listening to the tenderness in her voice stripped him of his armour.

If he could touch her…

"Your hair," he began, closing his eyes, seeing her right there in front of him. "I'd run my hands so slowly through your beautiful hair… allowing the softness of your curls to tangle around my fingers… leaning in close, skating my lips along the edge of your ear, breathing in the luscious aroma of your cherry scented shampoo…"

He imagined her beaming at him adoringly, her dark, twinkling eyes staring back into the depths of his own.

"I'd gently run my palm along the edge of your jaw, the backs of my fingers barely brushing the side of your cheek… gently tracing the edge of your lips with the pad of my thumb… allow my skin to study every line of your gorgeous face..."

His stomach clenched, a sensation of inexplicable discomfort coursing through his frigid, stinging core.

"I'd wrap my arms around you…" he continued, wincing as he spoke. "Run my hands up and down the length of your spine… memorize the curves of your body all over again... press my lips gently against yours… remind you just how much I lo-" he grunted, hands fisting tighter, his facial muscles scrunching due to a rush of pain in his side.

"Castle?..."

"I'm okay…" he placated gingerly, groaning though the jarring pain. "I'm okay."

He released a slow breath, splaying one of his palms against his torso, trying desperately to repress the stabbing pain in his rib cage.

"Castle, I-" she began, but cut her words short as a bright light suddenly illuminated from underneath the metal door.

* * *

Her retinas stung as the blinding light hit them, her eyes shutting tight of their own volition.

Neither she nor Castle spoke, listening intently to the approaching echo of lumbering footsteps. There were no voices. No other ambient noises.

Just slow, thudding footsteps.

_Thump…_

_Thump…_

_Thump…_

_Thump…_

And then there was no more. Only the sound of eerie silence. Beckett forceably parted her eyelashes, the harsh light painful to look at though the miniscule slit.

But when the sound of squeaking hinges filled her ears, her heart began to race uncontrollably.

Because her door was still closed.

"Castle?" she called into the darkness as she heard a painful, throaty moan from the other side of the wall. "_Castle?!"_

"_Always_" was the last thing Kate heard - his voice distant and ragged and weak - before the metal door slammed shut.

* * *

xxxx

**Still with me? **

**Considering this isn't my usual style, I'd love to know your thoughts.**

**Judge away.**


	4. Chapter 4

**To the Guest who wrote me that beautiful review of "Enjoy the Silence"... You left me speechless. From the bottom of my heart - Thank you.**

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* * *

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**CHAPTER 4**

_There were no voices. No other ambient noises._

_Just slow, thudding footsteps._

_Thump…_

_Thump…_

_Thump…_

_Thump…_

_And then there was no more. Only the sound of eerie silence. Beckett forceably parted her eyelashes, the harsh light painful to look at though the miniscule slit._

_But when the sound of squeaking hinges filled her ears, her heart began to race uncontrollably._

_Because her door was still closed._

_"Castle?" she called into the darkness as she heard a painful, throaty moan from the other side of the wall. "Castle?!"_

_"Always" was the last thing Kate heard - his voice distant and ragged and weak - before the metal door slammed shut._

* * *

It was so much worse now.

Agonizing.

Swallowed by the inky darkness of her stone prison, not knowing where Castle was. If he was okay. If he was still alive.

Her mind was reeling - a multitude of tortuous possibilities flooding her thoughts. How Castle might be writhing in pain, screaming in agony, bleeding out after being beaten.

Or… he… he might… already… be d-

_No. No!_ She wouldn't think like that.

_Couldn't_ think like that!

She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, digging her chin into her chest as she breathed slowly. Deeply.

But no matter how she tried to calm herself - wipe the anxious negativity from invading the depths of her brain - the mere prospect of the unknown was grating at her soul, tearing her apart.

And she could do nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

She was powerless.

Pushing her hair back from her face, Beckett gripped her skull firmly within her palms as she pressed the back of her head heavily against the stone wall behind her, eyes shut tight as she released an elongated sigh from between her dry lips.

Her parched throat stung as the stale air exited her lungs, the lethargic heaviness of her body weighing her down. Her temple was throbbing, every muscle in her body ached, and she was once again alone.

And the reverberating silence was driving her to distraction.

It had been a few hours since she last heard Castle's voice echo in her ears - strained and frail.

Frail.

Not a term she would have ever thought of using to describe her fiancé. A man who she'd always known to be larger than life in every sense of the word. A man who could lighten her mood with a single quip, reassure her with a single touch, melt her heart with a single look. A man who was imperfectly perfect in every way imaginable. She'd seen him despondent, distressed, brittle and broken.

But never frail.

Until now.

Her hands slowly raked through her hair, sliding down across her face, cupping together in front of her mouth as she cracked her eyes open to peer into the endless, black abyss in which she found herself.

_Think Beckett… think…_

Who would do this to her? To them? Who would want to prolong this torturous isolation rather than just dispose of them both quickly?

This is more Jerry Tyson's style than Bracken's. Castle might have been right.

_Castle_…

She choked down the putrid bile that was inching up the inside of her throat as the harrowing thought of her injured partner facing off - once again - against that murderous sociopath swirled in her subconscious, acute anxiety building in her stomach like a wild fire.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her abdomen, curling her knees closely against her chest in an attempt to fight against the increasing nausea that was building in her core.

Kate could sense the caliginous obscurity beating against her defences. Wearing her down.

For so long, her armour had been so strong - almost impenetrable. But there's a chink in every suit of armour, and Castle had found it, exploited it, and stripped it from her body piece by piece. It had been a tough battle, but he'd been tenacious. Determined.

But, as a result, it left her defenceless.

At least when it came to him.

Because his being - his very soul - was now intertwined completely with hers. Two halves of a whole. Together they were stronger.

But apart…

Apart...

_Castle..._

Her body shivered uncontrollably as the aching, miserable panic clawed at her insides, a crippling sense of foreboding leaving her incapacitated.

She had to stop thinking. Needed to erase all thoughts from her mind. Because thinking about how Castle might be… might be…

_No_. She couldn't allow her mind to go there.

If he wasn't alive, she'd know it.

She'd feel it.

* * *

Her eyes slammed shut, her teeth grinding together as the seething pain in her legs reverberated through her entire body. Sitting immobile on the cold, concrete floor for as many hours as she had was sheer agony.

_Yoga might help..._

Groaning through the searing discomfort of her tense, throbbing muscles, Beckett crawled away from the wall, stretching herself out on her back on the middle of the floor of the cramped, sombre, darkened space.

Just as she began to bring her left knee up to her chest, she halted - a bright light suddenly flashing under the steel door.

She held her breath, pushing herself off the floor to sit up, listening intently for footsteps… and perhaps Castle's voice.

It seemed like an eternity - the prolonged silence excruciating - before she heard it.

_Thump… thud..._

_Thump… thud…_

_Thump… thud…_

Two pairs of feet. Two people. They were bringing Castle back. Alive.

She felt herself exhale fully for the first time in hours, the welcome release of oxygen burning her throat. She watched the light under her door darken, obscure shadows of large feet disrupting the brightness, the jingling of keys sounding so distant behind the metal door.

And then she was blind - a harsh, debilitating white glow suddenly illuminating the black oblivion inside which she'd been confined, the grating squeak of rusty hinges echoing shrilly in her ears.

Kate's eyes shut tight at the sudden onslaught of eviscerating light, her arms protectively crossing in front of her face of their own volition.

She had no chance to react as the sensation of a hood being shoved over her head caused her eyes to open wide, her lips parting with words of protest and expletives forming on her tongue.

But they never escaped her mouth as she felt a painful prick sting the base of her neck and her mind blanked.

* * *

There was no sound, but her head was pounding, her body listless.

She squinted slightly as she came to, grimacing due to the uncomfortable cramping of her muscles as the feeling in her fingers and toes began to return. She gingerly moved her head from side to side, carefully stretching her neck as she gradually regained her senses.

She was vertical… sitting. But not on the floor.

Elongating her fingers fully, Kate slowly stretched her hands, her knuckles cracking slightly. As she began to regain the sensation in her muscles, she attempted to lift her right arm from its resting position - only to have it not move.

Suddenly alert, Beckett parted her eyelashes allowing her eyes to take in her surroundings.

Nothing.

Nothing but darkness.

She still had a fucking hood over her head and now she was tied down! She tensed her muscles, forcing her wrists to pull against her restraints. But whatever was inhibiting her mobility was too tight.

She grit her teeth and tried again, but as it was before, her body could not move.

Taking a deep breath, Kate exhaled excruciatingly slowly, calming the erratic palpitations of her heart as well as the unfocused thoughts churning in her mind.

_Take it easy, Kate… You've got this..._

Shaking her head quickly, she felt the hood move, even lift slightly.

_You've got this…_

She repeated the movement, tilting her head forward this time, slowly inching the hood from her head. Taking a few brief pauses to stave off the inevitable light-headedness, she continued to methodically shake her head, the hood eventually tumbling to the floor, partially covering her right foot.

The brightness of the room stung her eyes, her scrambled brain slightly woozy. She threw her head back, now-tangled mess of hair tumbling down her back, eyes squeezed shut, fighting off the self-inflicted dizziness. After several minutes, she gently cracked her eyelids, reacquainting herself with something she hadn't seen in so long.

Pure light.

She stared at the white ceiling tiles for a few moments before tilting her head forward. And then she forgot how to breathe.

She couldn't move, completely restrained, and all she wanted to do was dive to the floor. Because Castle was lying there, unconscious, body a twisted and dishevelled mound, left arm flopped on the floor, a dark puddle of blood pooled under him.

* * *

xxxx

**In all fairness, I _did _warn you that I was going to go darker and pull on heart-strings…**

**Just remember - it's Jo's fault. ;)**

**Judge away.**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

_She stared at the white ceiling tiles for a few moments before tilting her head forward. And then she forgot how to breathe._

_She couldn't move, completely restrained, and all she wanted to do was dive to the floor. Because Castle was lying there, unconscious, body a twisted and dishevelled mound, left arm flopped on the floor, a dark puddle of blood pooling under him._

* * *

"Castle?!" she choked, throat hoarse and raw, words distressed.

Looking at his crumpled form - lying there on his side, comatose, right arm extended towards her - scared the shit out of her as her heart rate began to race.

She wrenched her body violently, squirming and straining in an attempt to weaken the grip of her restraints, her wrists twisting fiercely while her legs toiled against the rigid, taut leather harnesses that were immobilizing her calves. "Castle?! _Castle!... Rick!_"

With eyes locked on his bruised, battered face, Kate jerked again against the tight straps holding her to the chair.

_He can't be dead!_

But glancing down at the dark, crimson blood pooled underneath him made her sick. What if-

_No!_

This was _not_ how their story was going to end! Not like this!

Closing her eyes and taking a deep, elongated breath, Beckett calmed her nerves - regained control of her frenzied emotions. Staring at Castle's crippled body was doing nothing to help, but panicking would do nothing to help either.

Her eyes shot open - steeled determination painting her glare as she looked at her fiancé lying on the floor, immobile.

Gritting her teeth, her eyes quickly shifted to survey her predicament.

The metal chair on which she was seated was bolted to the concrete floor. The stale, sinister, white-washed brick walls of the small room sent chills up her spine - like they were confined in a padded room inside an insanitarium... but without the padding. No windows. No furniture. Just a bronze tap sticking out of the wall in the corner at the far end of the room - opposite the cold, metal door.

She glanced once more at the marred writer, agony swirling in the base of her stomach, aggravated as the two-inch leather straps that were keeping her in the metal chair chafed irritatingly against her wrists. Giving them her complete attention, she attempted to lift her forearms once again.

Her arms remained immobile - flush against the cold, unforgiving metal.

_Fuck!_

Pursing her lips together tightly, Beckett strained once more against the restraints, grinding her teeth as her entire body trembled, a pained grunt escaping her throat. Her muscles tensed, her limbs vibrated, her fingers clawed at the metal... and then...

Nothing.

Nothing loosened. Nothing moved.

Just… nothing.

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

She shut her eyes tightly, releasing a heavy, frustrated exhale through her nose.

She didn't know where she was or how long she'd been here. She didn't know who had captured her. And Castle…

Her eyes shot open to be haunted once more by the ominous sight. Castle was hurt. And he needed her.

_Think Beckett..._

Steeling herself, she leaned forward to carefully study the strap around her left wrist.

_Get one hand out…_ _Just one hand..._

Twisting her wrist counter-clockwise, she was intrigued to see the leather strap move as well, crawling around the arm of the chair, revealing the brass buckle.

Kate's eyes widened at the sight, her brilliant brain racing. Focusing herself entirely on her left arm, she gingerly twisted her arm back to its original position, careful not to take the leather strap with it. She grinned shrewdly when the buckle remained in sight.

So she repeated the series of movements, deftly twisting her wrist, sliding the leather band around the wide armrest, slowly inching the buckle closer and closer to her arm.

Time ticked away as she felt the surging urgency to escape from her shackles. She tried to concentrate entirely on the leather binding, but she couldn't keep her eyes from flicking desperate glances between Castle's listless body and the daunting metal door - anxiety increasing with every second knowing that her captors might enter at any moment.

She had to get to him. She had to…

After what seemed like an eternity, the brass buckle finally kissed the side of her wrist. Bending forward, she bit down on the edge of the malleable leather and slowly, methodically pulled the excess strap back through the buckle, inch by painstaking inch. The bitter taste of the leather on her tongue caused her to gag slightly, but she didn't care.

Because when the going gets tough, Kate Beckett kicks ass.

Finally, the end of the leather strap came free of the clasp - loosening just enough for her to pull her arm free of the restraint. Her nimble fingers made quick work of the strap around her right wrist before using both hands to free her lower legs - eyes locked on Castle almost the entire time.

As soon as the shackles slid open, Beckett flew from the chair, diving down onto her knees next to Castle's torso, her hand flying to brush across his temple and down his jaw.

She couldn't suppress the desperation in her harsh, raspy voice. "Castle?! _Castle, look at me!"_

Quickly pressing two fingers to his neck, she located his pulse point while she leaned in close, bringing her cheek less than an inch from his parted lips.

_Stay with me..._

But when she felt his shallow but even pulse throbbing against her fingertips and the light breath from his mouth cool the skin of her right cheek, she closed her eyes and released a deep, relieved sigh, momentarily dropping her forehead onto his outstretched arm.

He was alive.

Her eyes quickly gave him a once-over, checking for the source of the blood. A gash, a slice… anything…

But he was on his side, and she was afraid to move him lest she cause him further injury.

The sticky puddle of blood in which she was kneeling began to soak through the thick denim covering her legs as she carefully attempted to examine his right side and chest, gingerly running the pads of her fingers in the space between the floor and his torso. Keeping her eyes on his face, she saw no reaction to her touch - no twitch, no twinge, no flutter.

But she couldn't figure out the blood…and what about…

_...cracked ribs…_

Hesitantly, she gently laid her outstretched palm on his left hip, slowly trailing it along the side of his semi-prone body, mapping his waist, his rib cage, checking for…

"_Gnughhhhh…" _

"Castle?" she squeaked at his unintelligible groan.

A second pained moan eked from deep in his throat as she touched his tender ribs once again, his eyelids fluttering and scrunching.

"C'mon Babe... open your eyes," she pleaded, the words scratching her arid throat, fingers lightly tracing the edge of his bruised jaw, tenderly sweeping the tips of his dishevelled hair.

She found herself able to breathe again a few minutes later when his eyelashes parted slightly, flickering as his eyes reacquainted themselves with light. A single tear welled in her eye - a genuinely relieved smile painting her lips - when his blue eyes locked on the sight of her.

"Hey…" he whispered, voice barely audible.

"Hey…" she beamed, gently soothing his temple with her fingertips. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been cuddling with angry gorillas…" he quipped as he ground his teeth in pain.

"Maybe you should start with a gentler cuddle-buddy next time," she grinned, humouring him while she examined his black eye.

"Yeah," he groaned. "Like tribbles… or cotton balls."

He winced as her fingers brushed the swollen, red gash along his cheek bone.

"Sorry..."

"S'okay…" he muttered, shutting his eyes, the bright light evidently stinging his retinas.

His body convulsed as a hoarse cough escaped his parched throat, his left hand moving to press against his raised side as he gritted his teeth - his ribs evidently causing him a lot of discomfort as he tried to subdue a pained grunt. Kate grimaced as she knelt at his side, listening to him wheeze as he attempted to regain control of his breathing - and it killed her that she could do nothing to ease the pain.

Brushing his hair from his forehead, her own thirst becoming difficult to ignore, Beckett cleared her gravelly throat. If only they had some wat-

_The tap!..._

Spinning her head, Beckett glanced over at the small bronze tap in the back corner of the room. Quickly forcing herself to her feet, she shuffled over to the tap, fighting against the searing pain of her stiff leg muscles.

It evidently hadn't been used in a long time, the green oxidization engulfing the metal.

_Please work…_

She gripped the knob tightly, using every ounce of strength she could muster to turn it to the left.

Nothing.

_Come on…_

The rough metal dug into the palm of her hand as Castle coughed again, his harsh groan pulling her attention. Looking at him tilt his head back in agony, his eyes pinched shut, she turned back to the tap and focused her efforts once again.

Suddenly, it squeaked. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she continued to strain against the rigid metal, her arm vibrating until…

Cold water began to spill onto the floor, the splashing of liquid a heavenly sound.

Cupping her hands beneath the steady flow, Beckett quickly guzzled a welcome drink, the cold liquid soothing her parched, raw throat. Not wasting a second, she collected a second handful of water and rushed it over to her fiancé.

"Here," she whispered softly, holding her hands next to his lips.

It was awkward to say the least, but he managed to contort himself enough to be able to ingest the water, the rush of liquid soothing his aching throat and abating his intense thirst. Kate made several trips back to the tap, ensuring he was once again hydrated before allowing herself another drink.

Eventually shutting off the running water, she glanced over at Castle as he groaned while attempting to sit up.

"Hang on," she insisted, reaching out to steady him, one of her palms tenderly gripping his left shoulder, the other supporting his right side as he slowly pushed himself up off the floor.

For the first time, she was able to get a decent look at his right side, and the source of the blood was immediately evident.

There was a good gash in his lower leg - his pant leg ripped open. It was still bleeding a bit, but not too much. Grabbing his pant leg, Beckett quickly tore a strip from the damaged material. She quickly removed one of her socks and placed it over the laceration, securing it with the strip of cloth - make-shift gauze for a make-shift pant-leg bandage.

His upper body seemed to be fine, though evidently sore as he winced slightly when her fingers feathered along his abdomen.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she exhaled softly, backs of her fingers sweeping across his bruised jaw, her eyes meeting his with intense tenderness.

"They didn't even ask me anything," he muttered, bring his right palm to her face. He cupped her cheek delicately, the pad of his thumb affectionately trailing underneath her eye.

"Do you know who di-"

But she didn't have a chance to finish her question as the metal door unexpectedly swung into the room... three ominous, shadowed figures - semi-automatic assault rifles in hand - filling the doorway.

* * *

.

**Cue the sinister and foreboding music, then yell at the monitor as _"To Be Continued"_ flashes on the screen...**

**Oh wait… I'm thinking of my reaction at the end of "Valkyrie"... My bad. ;)**

**xxx**

**And the infuriation of being kept in the dark continues.**

**So there you go… Judge away.**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

"_I'm so glad you're okay," she breathed, fingers sweeping across his bruised jaw, her eyes meeting his after determining his injuries weren't life threatening._

"_They didn't even ask me anything," he muttered, bring his right palm to her face. He tenderly cupped her cheek, the pad of his thump affectionately trailing underneath her eye._

"_Do you know who di-"_

_But she didn't finish her sentence as the metal door unexpectedly swung into the room... three ominous, shadowed figures - semi-automatic assault rifles in hand - filling the doorway._

* * *

The daunting figures blocked the doorway completely, steadfast and solid - clad in black cargo pants, white muscle shirts covering their chests, faces shadowed behind the heavy hoods of the black sweatshirts which were covering their bulging forearms - their deafening silence unrelenting.

Beckett glared at them, her face betraying nothing as one hand remained on Castle's thigh - the pressure steady and firm, grounding her. She felt the writer's familiar palm grip the back of her calf - his light touch conveying so much - but his face stayed hard as his emboldened eyes locked on the forms of their muscular captors.

Without a word, two of the men pushed forward into the room, their gargantuan bodies towering over Castle and Beckett as the partners remained on the cold, concrete floor - unrelenting and obdurate, both the detective and the writer determined not to be submissive.

One of the thugs grabbed Beckett's shoulder with intense, gruff force, digging his strong thumb into her shoulder blade, intense pain erupting in her arm, nerves alighting as if they were being repeatedly stabbed with rusty nails. The detective bit back a cutting hiss as she was wrenched to her feet. The burning of her muscles flared as she fought to stay vertical, fighting against the instinct to collapse beneath the scorching pain in her legs.

She kept her eyes fixed on the larger man standing at the door - both of his massive hands gripping his gun tightly - as she heard a loud crack: the familiar sound of the butt of a gun contacting a body. It took everything in her not to look back at her fiancé as he released a strained, guttural groan through his gritted teeth which was quickly followed but the distinctive sound of flesh slapping concrete.

For whatever reason - a reason Beckett couldn't yet fathom - it was clear that they were determined to leave Castle utterly debilitated.

_Assholes_.

She felt her arms wrenched harshly behind her, a wide palm immobilizing her wrists, the distinct point of a muzzle digging into the small of her back.

She watched as the man in the door continued to stand in silence, working with the ominous shadows to make his large frame that much more intimidating.

But Kate Beckett does not intimidate easily.

A million questions and concerns knocked at the gates of her mind - bringing with them reinforcements of anxiety, apprehension, and distress - but as insistent as they were to infiltrate the cracks of her psyche, she wouldn't let them in.

Kate might not have her wall anymore, but Detective Beckett still had her armour.

She _would not_ let them see her break.

The gorilla immobilizing her arms shoved her unapologetically towards the door, jerking her body violently to advance against its will, the cold barrel of a gun digging painfully into the small of her back.

A sneer shaped on the corner of her mouth as she came to a halt at the doorway, toe to toe with the silent, hooded figure.

Her was face cold as steel as she glared - unblinking - at the shadowed face. "Who are you?" she growled under her breath, narrowing her eyes.

There was a pregnant pause - both challengers unwavering in their defiance - before Beckett's left cheek was greeted by a vicious, rough, monstrous palm - the wickedly aggressive smack of skin against skin echoing off the brick walls.

"Ka-" Castle cried before releasing a loud, harrowing grunt, the wind knocked out of him after taking a strong fist to his abdomen.

Staring at the ground for a moment, she attempted to recover her bearings after the sudden and unexpected blow to the face. Ears ringing and vision blurred, she stretched her pulsating jaw in silence as she gauged the severe throbbing of her burning her flesh.

As she fought against the dizzying nausea, Beckett heard an indignant, arrogant snicker directly behind her as she listened to Castle's arduous wheezing.

_Fuckers._

A million emotions raced through her all at once - some annoyed, some shocked, many irate - but she fought against them. Reined them in and buried them deep.

Memories of Vulcan Simmons permeated her thoughts - how he'd gotten under her skin. How she'd allowed him to aggravate her… taunt her… toy with her…

Twice.

She would_ not_ lose her self-control when she had no control over the situation.

Not again.

She wasn't allowed much of a reprieve from the dizzying hit, however, as she was yanked harshly once again, body straightening as she was forced to face the gargantuan man in the doorway for a second time. Releasing a powerful huff through her nostrils, she said nothing. She simply stared at the hooded figure - her eyes dark and dangerous.

But the silent stand-off was short-lived as the dark figure turned away from her, smirking as if she was a worthless piece of trash, and began to march back through the ominous tunnel outside the white-washed brick cell.

"Move!" a grave, rumbling voice thundered in her ear as the barrel of the gun pressed deep into her back, her torso simultaneously shoved forward through the doorway.

She could hear Castle's agonized coughing just behind her as her aching thighs burned with each step she took - and it wrecked her. That the man she loved - her partner, her fiancé, her best friend - was in such obvious pain… and it was getting worse... and she could do nothing. She was powerless.

And she hated it.

She continued to stumble forward, the endless, cavernous hallway - like a dark mouth that was swallowing her whole. Though her body was screaming, her eyes were acute, observing and filing away every iota of information they could glean.

Focusing her mind, she fixed her attention on the few dim light bulbs which swung from the curved ceiling, noting that they provided minimalistic illumination of the dank, damp corridor. The narrow passage of dark stone that surrounded them seemed reminiscent of the room in which she found herself when she first woke up, but several spots on the walls were shiny… as if they were wet… as if...

Beckett's eyes widened in realization.

They were underground.

* * *

His jaw was throbbing; the roughly bandaged lesion in his right calf was burning; the left side of his chest was in agony as his fractured ribs sent jolts of scorching, torturous pain through his entire body with every cumbersome step - like he was being slowly shoved through a meat grinder.

Castle squinted tightly, groaning uncomfortably at the excruciating sensation of the end of a gun digging into his injured side. Grinding his teeth soundly, he bit back the urge to holler a series of expletives.

He didn't want to give these muscle-bound apes the satisfaction.

Cracking his eyelashes apart despite the swelling of his injured eye, the writer felt a harsh clenching in his chest as he saw his partner a few feet in front of him - arms immobilized tightly behind her back within the powerful grip of her captor, her steps staggering as an AR-15 Rifle pressed into her lower back.

Every part of his being wanted to fight back – violently shove the men into the stone wall beside him and crack his fist into the guys' skulls. He knew Beckett could handle herself, but he instinctively wanted to protect his fiancée. Show his partner that he had her back.

But he couldn't.

Because it was taking everything in him not to keel over, fall down on the ground. He was straining to stay vertical – to not collapse under his arduous weight. The struggle to remain on his feet was enough of a challenge as the intense pain coursed through his body the more he moved.

But one thing was very clear to him.

They obviously wanted him crippled… but not dead.

Yet.

* * *

The screeching cacophony of unlubricated hinges resonated in her ears as she watched yet another metal door swing open.

Halting her movements at the opening, Beckett looked into the small room for a split second before she cringed – swallowing a string of curses that were crawling up her throat as she felt the sharp sting of a thick needle being jammed into her right shoulder.

But she had no time to neither twitch nor twist as her body was forcefully shoved into the grey, brick room. Tumbling to the cold, hard floor, she attempted to brace her fall, but whatever they had injected into her body made her limbs slack, her mind hazy. Her torso plowed against the concrete surface, her arm unable to catch her body, her legs collapsing under her.

She heard a loud, painful _'Ooouufff'_ as she felt Castle's huge frame collide with hers.

Straining to push herself off the floor, Beckett felt the walls vibrate after the thick metal door slammed shut, the thunderous clacking of a dead bolt echoing within the confined space.

"Castle…" she moaned, struggling to get on her knees. "Are you okay?"

"Never better," he groaned, coughing through the pain as he attempted to chuckle.

Her head was spinning as she managed to push herself into a semi-seated position. She grunted softly as she pressed a palm to her face, rubbing her eyes and massaging the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stave off the grogginess.

"They drugged me with something," she muttered, fighting the dizziness. "Probably my second dose..."

Her voice trailed off as she turned her attention to her injured fiancé. "Babe-" she began, her voice tender and caring, before he brought his fingers to her swollen cheek.

"You're hurt," he whispered with a deep gentleness as the tips of his fingers softly caressed the angry, red welt marring the left side of her gorgeous face.

"Look who's talking," she smiled meekly - though she wasn't really feeling it - as she trailed her fingers along his hairline, sweeping his mussed bangs from his forehead, careful not to touch the numerous scrapes, cuts and bruises masking his beautiful features.

They silently locked eyes - it could have been seconds, it could have been hours. But it didn't matter. They knew. They knew, and neither one of them could say it.

Beckett finally released an elongated sigh. Closing her eyes, head angling towards the floor, her words caught in her throat. "Castle…" she choked. "If-"

"No," he interrupted, voice as solid as ever.

"But if-"

"I'm not saying goodbye, Kate," he insisted as he cringed slightly due to his aching ribs - palming her jaw, tilting her head up to face him.

Lifting her hooded eyes, she was met by a swirling ocean of blue. A serene calm flooded through her as his eyes pierced hers - their past, present and future whirling in their depths.

She nodded gently as a light smile tugged at the edges of her lips.

"Not yet," he whispered, the pad of his thumb mollifying the scorching heat of her throbbing cheek.

"Not yet," she echoed with a vehement sigh, closing her eyes as she pressed her palm to the back of his hand, relishing the peace of the moment - the connection between them - holding its welcome pressure against her face like a soothing balm.

Their bubble quickly burst, however, as Castle's strained voice broke the silence.

"Kate…" he muttered, "I've been here."

Her eyes shot open. Tearing her gaze from him, she hastily looked around. Her brain was still hazy and her vision blurry, but she was definitely able to see two things very clearly.

There were sets of wrist manacles hanging from chains on the two opposing walls, the floor permanently stained red in several spots, faded crimson lines snaking their way to a small drain grate in the center of the room.

"This is where they brought me-"

"-when they…" she continued, her eyes quickly flashing a look at his numerous injuries.

She met his eyes, intense concern reflecting back at her. "Castle…" she breathed as her heart began to palpitate wildly.

But no more words were spoken as the heavy metal door swung open. Kate's eyes widened as she stared as a familiar face entered the room.

"Nice to see you again... Detective Beckett."

* * *

xxx

**I know… I know…**

**You hate me.**

…**but you know you secretly love the suspense. ;)**

**.**

**The continuous anxiety of living with the unknown - having lots of questions but no answers and being completely powerless... kinda parallels RL for me at the moment... I guess that's where this is coming from.**

**But I promise to wrap it up soon.**

**.**

**As always, the typos belong to me.**

**Judge away.**


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

"_Castle…" she breathed as her heart began to palpitate wildly._

_But no more words were spoken as the heavy metal door swung open. Kate's eyes widened as she stared as a familiar face entered the room._

_"Nice to see you again... Detective Beckett."_

* * *

He stood there in his tailored suit and open-collared silk shirt, staring back at her - hands in his pants pockets, black hair slicked back, goatee perfectly coifed, a smug, impertinent grin on his face.

"You're very tenacious, Detective," he mocked. "You found that hole in the wall rather quickly, and I didn't expect you to escape from that chair for several hours."

She said nothing, face emotionless.

"I underestimated you. But… no matter," he continued, motioning with the simple movement of his curved finger. "We just get to... chat... sooner."

Two overly tattooed men in white muscle-beaters, hand guns tucked into the waistbands of their black cargo pants, marched into the room - but they did not approach Castle nor Beckett. They simply placed themselves alongside the wall, behind their boss.

She continued to stare silently as the man picked up the metal chair from beside the door and plunked it about a foot away from her.

"It's been... what? Almost two years?" he smirked, voice as smooth as silk, eyes twinkling with delight as he sat down. "Last time we crossed paths..." his voice deepened as he continued, "...you threatened me."

She schooled her features. "Caesar Vales."

He flashed her a dangerously debonair smile, tilting his head playfully. "I can see you've missed me."

She held her tongue, watching him lean back into his chair.

"I can't say I've enjoyed my new home as much as I liked_ your _city…"

"And where is that, exactly?" she all but sneered at the Mexican.

He chose to ignore the question - instead grinning slyly. "But you've had a lot happen to you since we last met…" Reaching into the inside pocket of his dark grey jacket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper. She furrowed her brow momentarily as she observed the man in front of her slowly unfold what looked to be a newspaper clipping.

Holding it up, he almost laughed as her face blanked.

Her own smiling face beamed back at her.

"You got engaged," he leered.

* * *

Staring at her engagement announcement, Beckett's mind began to process everything that had led to this point.

Castle being caught in the middle of a stand-off with the Mexican mafia thanks to Ethan Slaughter; her putting Vales in his place as he escaped a murder charge; the drug lord being forced to relocate his Meth operation.

Kate glared into the eyes of the smug gangster, understanding exactly why he had abducted them.

She shamed him… and this was payback.

"Why keep moving us around? Why all the theatrics?" She paused for a few seconds before going for broke. "Why not just kill us?"

He replied with nothing but a cheap, taunting smile.

All of this was a show. Nothing but a show to remind her he was still around - and that he has been watching her.

_Sick bastard!_

"Is that what this is to you?" she snarled. "_A game?!_"

Left hand wrapped around his right fist, elbows resting on his knees, he leaned forward. The self-satisfied smirk all but wiped from his face, eyes cold and dark. "Who says I'm playing?"

* * *

Partially lying on his side, left hand supporting his fractured ribs, Castle could do nothing but watch in silence as his fiancée openly defied the Mexican drug lord.

Normally he would have found her resolve to be extremely sexy... But right now, he just couldn't bring himself to go there.

Beckett was playing with nothing in her hand.

And they knew it.

They all knew it.

"So what now?" he groaned, addressing Vales.

The man's eyes shifted from Beckett's steady glare to glance at the injured writer.

"Well…" Vales remarked, the "L" rolling on his tongue, "considering you're _not actually a cop_…" He emphasized the pop of the "P" to ensure he had Castle's undivided attention before he dropped the cocky grin. His face and voice were deadly serious. "...whatever I want."

* * *

With a snap of his fingers, the two thugs advanced, pulling black hoods from behind their backs.

Beckett could do nothing but roll her eyes as the hulking men lumbered towards her, their footsteps lacking Vales' confident swagger.

'_Here we go again_,' she thought, unimpressed, as a hood was unceremoniously shoved over her head just after watching Castle's head being covered as well.

Then she felt another stabbing prick at the base of her neck before her world fell into darkness once again.

* * *

She woke from her dreamless stupor when her body slammed against a wall, her head knocking on the bouncing floor.

_What the hell…?_

But when she heard the roaring engine, she quickly put the pieces together. She was in a vehicle…

She heard Castle's distinctive groan as the brakes simultaneously squealed.

_We're here…_

But wherever "here" was would probably come clear very soon as she heard the unlatching of van doors before the floor moved beneath her, the clunking footsteps of a couple of people stepping into the space.

"Up!" a raspy, accented voice demanded as she was pulled to her feet.

Whatever drugs they had pumped into her system were evidently doing the job really well, because her legs felt like rubber and she had to fight to keep her head from spinning.

Stepping down, leaves and twigs crunched underfoot.

"A forest, guys?" Castle quipped, his groggy voice just behind her. "Seriously? Could you be any more clichéed?"

An exasperated, breathless grunt followed as he evidently took another punch to the gut.

"Guess so," the writer added, wheezing faintly, the wind knocked out of him.

"Walk!" one of the thugs demanded, pushing her forward. But she didn't take more than ten steps before a foot kicked the back of her knee - her legs buckling as she collapsed to the muddy ground.

The dark hood was pulled roughly from her head and she suddenly found herself face to face again with Vales' pompous smile. She met his unwavering glare as she noted Castle falling to his knees to the left of her.

The cold muzzle of a gun pressed against the base of her neck as Vales continued to stare silently, the surrounding trees fracturing the moonlight as it painted his shadowed face.

Without another word, the gangster rose from his squatted position and gave a curt nod to the person at her back.

A vehicle's engine engaged as someone behind her cocked a gun.

She felt Castle's hand wrap around her left palm, his strong fingers twining with hers. She turned her head slightly, her eyes locking with his, breath steady, pulse calm.

This was it.

And they would do it together.

And taking a deep breath, they waited...

Waited for the inevitable.

* * *

Tires spun against the dirt and gravel beneath them.

A motor roared.

And the sound of a vehicle speeding away caused both of them to turn their heads - catching only the faint outline of a dark van as it disappeared into the ether.

Abandoning them… in the middle of the night… in the middle of nowhere… in a dark and cold forest.

_Perfect._

* * *

.

**I'm kinda curious as to how many people though their captor was going to be one of "the usual suspects" (Tyson, Bracken, Vulcan Simmons, etc…)**

**.**

**I know some people weren't happy with the drawn out suspense of this fic, but I was trying something new and attempting a few different writing techniques that were suggested to me.**

**I'm still not sure if they gelled well with my usual style, but I gave it my best shot… Thanks to everyone who gave me constructive feedback _(particularly StoryLover12th and Honeyandvodka)._**

**_._**

**We're almost at the end of this roller coaster. **

**I hope you stay with me for one or two more chapters.**


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

_The sound of a vehicle speeding away caused both of them to turn their heads - catching only the faint outline of a dark van as it disappeared into the ether._

_Abandoning them… in the middle of the night… in the middle of nowhere… in a dark and cold forest._

_Perfect._

* * *

She could do nothing but watch the red tail lights fade into oblivion, mud soaking through her jeans, the intense chill infusing her knees while she knelt on the cold ground. The darkness of the night engulfed them as Beckett immediately turned to Castle who had dropped his hands to the ground, supporting his arduous weight.

Her arms instinctively reached for him, her left hand skirting his back while the other lightly pressed to his side. "Castle?..."

A pained grunt escaped his throat while he swallowed the pain that was reverberating throughout his body. "Gimme a minute," he breathed, voice raspy, eyelids scrunched together.

Keeping her palms firmly in place, she continued to hold him gently as he battled through the pain that the adrenaline had been masking up to this point. Taking a moment to survey their predicament, it became immediately evident to her that they were not in a good place - both literally and figuratively.

The dizzying effects of the drugs that had been pumped into them continued to linger as the creepy obscurity of their surroundings flooded around them, enclosing them in a formidable sea of towering trees. The broken moonlight gave the darkened forest a sinister atmosphere as it sliced through the high, leafless branches, casting ominous shadows across the endless thicket.

Beckett shivered as the crisp, early-April wind crawled through her sweater, biting her skin.

They needed to stay warm... find shelter.

"Can you walk?" she whispered to her fiancé as his breathing evened.

"I think so," he nodded, voice gravelly.

As she reached to take his hand to steady him as he rose from his knees, memories of him helping her out of her tub flashed through her mind. How her body screamed as she hobbled through her burning apartment after it had exploded - Castle never letting her go. Never letting her fall.

Always there.

And now it was her turn to help him stand. To hold him up.

But after struggling to his feet, he managed to take only a few steps across the muddy ground before his knees began to buckle, the pressure on his injured right leg too much to bear, the pain in the left side of his chest pulling with every laboured step. His huge frame weighed down on her as he hissed in agony.

"Nope… nope…" he groaned as they diverted to lean against a towering, old oak.

Before he could crumple to the base of the tree, Beckett led him around to the opposite side of the thick trunk. If they weren't going to be going anywhere, at least the tree could be useful to shelter them from the cutting wind.

_Probably for the best,_ she thought as she peered into the dark abyss of the vanishing dirt road._ Can't see much anyway._

The threatening darkness enveloped around them as he pressed his back against the trunk, gingerly sliding down the rough bark, her hand carefully bracing his injured left side on the way down.

"How are your ribs?" she inquired softly as she helped him settle into a semi-comfortable position on the cold, mossy ground.

"Delicious," he smirked through the pain. "Especially when I slow-cook them and glaze them with my secret sauce."

"Funny man," she grinned dryly, tenderly running her hand across his shoulder. "Seriously, though, Castle," she continued after a moment, "how's your side?"

"Hurts when I move," he admitted with a slight moan, "but breathing is okay."

"No punctured lung," they both declared simultaneously.

Beckett couldn't suppress the relieved smile from crossing her face as he stared back at her, his eyes black, his face partially in shadow - the cuts and scratches on his cheek and the bruising around his eye concealed due to the darkness.

Her white of her eye twinkled slightly as the moonlight highlighted a single glistening tear that escaped and was snaking down her swollen, red cheek. She couldn't look away as his right palm came up to caress the edge of her jaw, the connection intense.

"So beautiful," he muttered, voice clear and earnest, the pad of his thumb swiping the tear from her wounded face.

"You're not so bad yourself, Castle," she smiled tenderly, turning her head to brush her mouth against the inside of his hand, her lips lingering as she closed her eyes, relishing the fact that they were here. Alive.

And together.

A gust of wind bellowed between the trees, causing Beckett to quiver as the cold night air pierced her body and chilled Castle's large hand.

They both needed to keep warm.

Without a word, he carefully extended his right arm, inviting her to curl in beside him. She folded herself against his chest, wrapping her right arm along his abdomen, careful not to put any pressure on his injured rib cage.

"I love cuddling with you for warmth," he smirked quietly as she coiled her knees closer to her body.

"Huddling," she retorted playfully.

"Potayto, Potahto," he chuckled, tightening his embrace.

She smiled into his shoulder as his forehead came down to rest against the top of her head. He was hurt far more severely than she, yet he still managed to make her smile. Find the joy. Comfort her.

Reflecting on who she had been a few years ago, she began to wonder if she would have had the strength to do it on her own. All the trials she'd been put through - almost freezing to death, hanging on to the edge of a building, being tortured and nearly drowned... even being shot in the chest. Would she have been able to last as long - hold on as long as she had - if he hadn't been with her?

It's strange - how the man who was once the bane of her existence became the one person who could ground her, give her strength that she didn't know she possessed. Without her even realizing it, he became that small, clear voice in her head that was always with her.

The one person she couldn't live without.

"You might deafen me if you keep thinking so loudly."

His deep, muffled voice snapped her from her reverie. She smiled as she felt his fingers twine around the stray ends of her long, mussed hair that were cascading over her shoulder, his strong bicep hugging her lithe form against his right side.

Her hand crept up along his torso, coming to rest atop the centre of his muscular chest. She felt her body melt into his as the even palpitations of his heart thumped against her splayed palm, the rhythm of it beating in time with hers.

"You know what would be really great right now?" he whispered into her hair. "S'mores."

She rolled her eyes as she bit back a giggle. "Really?" she replied drolly.

"It'd be perfect. You. Me. Cuddled together, a roaring campfire at our feet…"

"Sorry, Castle, but I neglected to pack marshmallows when I left for work this morning…" she began teasingly before her voice trailed off.

_This morning_. The realization hung like a dead weight between them. She had no idea what day it was. How long Vales had held them. Or where they were.

An uncomfortable, prolonged silence filled the air, the creaks and moans of the trees crying out into the night, the cracking of branches and the crunching of dead leaves echoing in the darkness.

And then, finally, Castle asked _the_ question. "Why didn't they kill us?"

His inquiry floated heavily in the air like rain clouds hovering over a dry field, begging to be relieved yet perhaps not entirely prepared for a possible flood.

Beckett stared blankly across his chest.

She knew why.

"Vales is smart," she began. "Killing a cop would only bring attention to his Meth operation, and he didn't want that."

"But, then-"

"I challenged him," she sighed. "And he's not a man who is used to being openly defied."

Castle began to realize exactly what she was trying to say. "He wanted to send you a message..."

"That he's still out there," Beckett nodded slightly against his side. "And that he hasn't forgotten."

"And hurting me…" he realized, his strong arms tightening their hold as she pressed herself into his side more fervently.

Her eyes fell shut as she affirmed his conclusion. "And hurting you..."

"...was the best way to hurt you," he finished, sighing heavily as his lips pressed firmly against the crown of her head.

There was nothing more to say. One of her greatest fears had come to fruition. He'd gotten hurt - not because they had been working a case or because he got caught in the line of fire. He was hurt just because he was tied to her.

Because she'd made their relationship… their engagement… public.

"I'm so sorry, Castle," she mumbled into his shirt, voice cracking slightly at the thought of his pain.

"For what?"

"You wouldn't have been hurt if…" She choked on the words, struggling to get them out. "...if we… if I hadn't…"

"Kate..." His quiet, steady voice rippled through the cold air between them, halting her admonition. She tilted her head up to look at him. Although he was almost encased entirely in shadows, she could feel his penetrating gaze washing over her, his face just inches away from hers. She swallowed lightly, her heart fluttering just as much as the frigid wind. "This isn't your fault."

She didn't need to be able to see him to know the heat and adoration that were swirling in his eyes. She'd seen it all too many times in the past. All too many times, and yet not enough. Never enough.

"What's a gash on my leg and a few broken ribs?" His palm swept along her shoulder, gently tracing her swan-like neck, fingertips barely painting the underside of her jaw, the edge of her lower lip. "I would die for you."

Before she could protest, his mouth pressed against hers, the sensation simultaneously tender and fierce, the satiny pressure of his lips quashing any possible retort that she would have tried to make. That she's the cop. That she's the one who's supposed to do the protecting.

But they were in this together. Two halves of an imperfect whole. And there are no limits to what he would do for the people he loves. None.

She could taste his salty tears as she licked them from his lips - the passion, devotion and vehement reverence flowing between them as her delicate fingers glanced along the side of his face. She tenderly pressed one more chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before pushing away.

"And I'll do everything in my power to ensure it never comes to that," she whispered.

"I know," he smiled quietly, pressing his forehead against hers as she buried her face into the side of his chest.

* * *

Everything eventually became very quiet, no more words were exchanged.

The whistling breeze encircled above them as the partners cocooned themselves around each other, attempting to stave off the bitterly numbing cold that was seeping into their bones, complete exhaustion hitting them like a tidal wave.

Kate tried to fight the threatening slumber as the ambient noises of the murky woods snaked around them, but the steadiness of Castle's breathing paired with the slow, rhythmic beating of his heart began to lull her into a comfortable trance.

Her eyelids began to droop. Her body felt so heavy, listless. She no longer had the energy nor the will to battle the sluggish lethargy of her mind.

Her hand flopped – the fingers that had been curled into the soft material of Castle's shirt, now loose - as she joined her fiancé, drifting off into a dreamless abyss... the dark, menacing forest swallowing them whole.

* * *

xxx

**It's been a tough week… but it felt good to write again. (Typos still mine)**

**One, maybe two chapters to go…**

**Hope you stick with me.**

**Judge away.**


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

_Her eyelids began to droop. Her body felt so heavy, listless. She no longer had the energy nor the will to battle the sluggish lethargy of her mind._

_Her hand flopped – the fingers that had been curled into the soft material of Castle's shirt, now loose - as she joined her fiancé, drifting off into a dreamless abyss... the dark, menacing forest swallowing them whole._

* * *

Her nose twitched of its own volition when a single cold, wet drop splashed against her sensitive, bruised cheekbone, trickling along the contours of her face, down her jaw.

Moments later, another drop exploded against her eyelid, followed by a third contacting the back of her hand.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she groggily returned from her mindless oblivion, a steady thumping pulsating in her ear.

As another droplet spattered against her chin, her eyes shot open, recollections of a dark forest flooding her mind.

Drugged… Vales… abandoned… Castle...

A murky ink spilled over the surrounding trees - the spindly, top branches stretching up into the heavens, disappearing into the opaque, unfriendly clouds over-head - the ominous rumbling of angry thunder getting louder.

This was definitely not what Beckett needed right now.

"Castle," she murmured into his ear while she gently tapped her fingers against his chest in an effort to rouse him. A few more raindrops pelted her from above, the droplets beginning to fall at a hastened interval.

She quickly glanced around as she called his name again.

There was a hint of embryonic sunlight attempting to eke over the horizon, but the world was still quite dark and sombre, awash in grim shadows, most of the early light shrouded behind the thick, grey cloud-cover.

But there was enough light for her to see that the tree they were leaning against was going to give them absolutely no shelter what-so-ever from the imminent downpour.

"Castle…" A quiet moan gurgled from the back of his throat as she ran her curled fingers along his temple. "Babe, wake up..."

"Kate?…" he muttered as his eyes stayed closed, the sound of her voice causing a light smile to tease the edge of his mouth. "Did you make coffee?"

"Sorry. Fresh out of espresso beans," she remarked, quickly surveying the dusky forest for a nearby, sheltered area. "It's about to pour. This tree isn't gonna give any cover. C'mon… We gotta move."

"I don't like the timber in your voice," he smirked as she attempted to help him up.

"Cute," she scoffed, gingerly wrapping her left arm around his waist as he slung his right arm over her shoulder, "but not the time."

"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud," he gritted playfully, swallowing a pained hiss as he took his first step, his right leg burning due to the pressure.

She ignored his quip, completely focused as they moved deeper into the dark woods, weaving between the enormous trees - careful not to slip on wet stones or trip over fallen logs - the rain starting to come down more insistently, the drops getting bigger.

"Speaking of mud," he groaned, struggling to pull his foot free of the powerful suck of the muddy ground as he fought to swallow the reverberating pain that was surging through his body due to his fractured ribs.

Wet leaves squished beneath their feet as they continued to hobble along, the forest growing more obscure as they moved deeper into the woods.

Cold water was now pouring down ruthlessly, sluicing ferociously over their bodies. A bright flash of lightning illuminated the forest for a split second - just enough for Beckett to find what she was looking for.

"There," she nodded, indicating a small alcove at the base of a rocky knoll just ahead of them. A second later, a crash of thunder echoed around them.

They were firmly in the belly of the beast.

They crawled into the paltry, hollowed-out space in the stony hillside, the four-foot overhang providing just enough cover to shelter them from the freezing onslaught.

Castle released a heavy exhale as he settled into the meagre cavity, his large hand keeping firm pressure on his left side as he leaned back against the craggy stone wall.

"T-talk about being c-caught between a r-rock and a hard p-place," he joked, trying to control his chattering teeth as he attempted to find a comfortable position on the damp ground.

She rolled her eyes as she shook her head, but she couldn't help but sigh, a light grin tugging on the edges her mouth as she gently bit the inside of her cheek. She knelt down beside his hip, a constant stream of water trickling down her left arm from the rock-face just above her head. She ignored the cold drip as her hand smoothed up and down the length of his arm – trying to create some friction to warm and comfort him - while her right palm rested firmly on his thigh, anchoring herself.

She felt his body tremble relentlessly against her wet flesh - her own body responding with an uncontrollable shiver, the intense cold seeping into her bones as well.

Their clothing was soaked completely, rain-flattened hair dripping, water running down their necks, oozing along their backs and chests.

The blazing wind howled as world lit up again with a few flashes of lightning - his face momentarily set aglow during the brief bursts of light... his eyes dark, peering fathoms deep into her own. Piercing. Steady. Unyielding.

She released a soft, quivering exhale as she recalled the last time Mother Nature had drenched her to this extent - sitting on that lonely swing, her head finally accepting what her heart had known for so many years. Terrified and excited as she came to the realization of what she wanted: Him.

And here she was again. Soaked to the bone. Staring into the eyes of the man she loves - the man who is everything to her - wondering how she could have ignored her feelings for so long. How she almost lost him.

How she almost lost _them_.

But it was as if the rain washed away any remaining doubts. Like the lightning helped to illuminate the darkness that had been consuming her for so long. Too long.

And though it hasn't been simple – because it's been anything _but_ – diving in made them both stronger... heart and soul.

She was lost in the profound depths of her thoughts when Castle's body suddenly quaked again, breaking her from her trance.

She knew hypothermia would claim them both if they didn't keep warm. Trapping his cold, wet fingers between her own, she curled in against his broad chest, her right hand pulling his arm around her like a blanket, their soaked clothing doing nothing to help their situation.

The deluge from above tumbled down like a thick curtain - a dark, dividing wall, cutting them off from the world.

Yet another maelstrom that they had to endure… endeavour to overcome.

Always an uphill battle.

Nothing ever easy.

The story of their lives.

"D-Don't w-worry," he chattered, pressing his lips into her hair, his eyes drooping as he surrendered to both exhaustion and the cold. "The s-storm's b-bound to k-k-clear up s-soon."

She looked out hypnotically at the raging tempest to her right, then back at her battered and frozen fiancé, her hand gripping his.

'_I hope so,' _she thought as she fused her frigid form firmly with his, their wet bodies dissolving together. The thunder continued to rumble and crack vehemently as she closed her eyes. _'I truly hope so...'_

* * *

"_Beckett…"_

His familiar, comforting voice calling her name echoed in the depths of her mind. So distant yet so close.

She felt numb. So numb. The chill of her drenched clothing saturated her body, seeping relentlessly into her icy skin.

"K-K-Kassle?" she replied with a weak whisper, her eyes hooded and tired, too heavy to open.

"_Beckett!..."_

The syllables of her name rumbled again, pounding into the ground alongside the pouring rain. The voice reverberated in her head - laced with the same distress she heard almost two years ago when it pleaded for her to hang on as she clung desperately to the side of the building.

"K-K-Kasssle, I'm h-here…" she stuttered, the memory all too real in her mind, her fingers slipping open, releasing her grip.

She couldn't do it. She was so tired. So cold. She couldn't hold on any more.

She felt herself letting go...

"_BECKETT!"_

It was Castle's voice… but it wasn't Castle's voice…

The world began to spin as she started to fall…

A bright light washed over everything...

"_JAVI! JAVI, THEY'RE HERE!"_

Everything was a delirious blur, sudden activity throbbing around her - flashes of light and dark, a cacophony of shouts and rushing footsteps.

She heard the soothing treble of Ryan's voice mutter something incoherent, a hazy silhouette of Esposito's solemn face filled her mind... then darkness overtook her and everything went silent.

* * *

.

**Hmmm… interesting. When I began this fic, there was never any rain in the forecast…**

**But I do like pathetic fallacy. ;)**

**.**

**Still with me? Just one more chapter to go.**

**Typos still belong to me.**

**Judge away.**


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

_A bright light washed over everything…_

_"JAVI! JAVI, THEY'RE HERE!"_

_Everything was a delirious blur, sudden activity throbbing around her - flashes of light and dark, a cacophony of shouts and rushing footsteps._

_She heard the soothing treble of Ryan's voice mutter something incoherent, a hazy silhouette of Esposito's solemn face filled her mind... then darkness overtook her and everything went silent._

* * *

The cadence of the monotonous beeps was stuck on repeat… the pattern both annoying and comforting - like the rhythmic yet irritating ticking of an analogue clock.

He felt a slender hand wrap within his own, the skin smooth and cool within his enormous palm, as a second hand rested gingerly against his forearm.

His eyelashes fluttered quickly, the bright light stinging his retinas, as his mind began to focus. Squinting one last time, he slowly parted his eyelids.

The vision of a beautiful and familiar smile filled his line of sight. It was not the one he'd expected, but it was welcome nonetheless - causing his heart to expand warmly within his chest. A light smile tugged on his lips as he gazed into the sweet blue eyes that mirrored his own.

"Hey Dad…" Alexis breathed with a soft grin, squeezing his fingers a bit tighter.

"Hi Pumpkin…" he muttered groggily.

"How're you feeling?"

"Like I've had the crap kicked out of me," he grimaced as he chuckled.

His daughter could do nothing but sigh in response to his candor. "You have."

"Touché," he grinned, ignoring the slight pull in his side. He paused for a moment before adding reassuringly, "...but time heals everything."

The redhead beamed at her father as he closed his eyes and reciprocated the loving grip on her tiny hand. She knew this was true in so many ways.

The beeping of the numerous monitors echoed around the stark white hospital room, filling the gaps in the brief but comfortable silence.

Opening her mouth to speak, the words stalled in Alexis' throat when Castle uttered, "Where's Kate?"

The young girl's eyes twinkled, her face glowing with sincerity. "She's fine, Dad. She and Gram just st-"

"Oh Richard! You're awake!"

The exuberant and familiar voice of Martha Rodgers impregnated the room, cutting off his daughter mid-sentence. Turning his head to gaze at the door, his heart warmed at the sight of the flamboyant diva sweeping towards his bed, a bright and relieved smile lighting her always-expressive features.

His eyes glistened as his mother beamed back at him, her blue eyes bright and loving and comforting as she wrapped her hand around his own. She could be an over-the-top hurricane and a flurry of dynamism for the most part, but when she suppressed the bravado and bottled the outrageousness - wow. It was powerful.

But then his heart suddenly stilled as he spied the most gorgeous sight he'd ever beheld. A stunning brunette standing silently in the background - leaning against the door frame, arms crossed loosely in front of her chest - surreptitiously observing the family reunion from afar, an adoring smile washing over her radiant face.

He almost felt time stop as her dazzling eyes locked with his.

Just the sight of her took his breath away.

"Kate…" he whispered in a most-reverent and silent prayer, unsure if the words even exited his lips.

"Hey." The sound of her voice was silky, warm, radiant. It was like ice cream on a hot day. Like a sunbeam slicing through thick clouds. Like soft jazz on a summer evening.

Like coming home.

He didn't even realize he was staring until his mother's voice drew his attention. "Yes… well. Let's… we'll give you two a moment," she stammered, looking over at her granddaughter who acquiesced with a silent nod of the head.

Castle could do nothing but watch the action play out in front of him - leaving him in complete awe of the women in his life. Passing by Beckett, the actress faced his fiancée, running a hand down Beckett's arm, giving her bicep a tender squeeze before walking out the door.

Then as Beckett traipsed towards him, his daughter rounded the foot of the bed, and just as their shoulders were aligned, both women stopped in their tracks. Their hands were suddenly entwined. Beckett quickly turned her head to meet the young girl's blue eyes - Kate's hazel eyes twinkling as Alexis mouthed a sincere _'thank you_' before releasing the detective's hand and leaving the room.

"They like you," Castle grinned as Beckett sat down in the chair beside him.

"What's not to like?" she smirked playfully while her fingers swept the mussed hair from his forehead.

"Gimme time," he retorted slyly as their palms kissed, their fingers twining together. "I'm sure I'll be able to come up with something."

"In your dreams," she scoffed, shaking her head while gently chewing on her lower lip.

"Yes, you are detective..." he replied, his voice and eyes suddenly completely serious, "and my reality."

And there it was.

The earnest, heart-felt words that oozed from his lips that so often left her speechless. How he could go from teasing her to complete adoration at the drop of a hat - it always left her floored. His utter devotion. And love. And faith.

How he waited…

It still felt like a dream sometimes - that they're here. Together.

Flawed in every way… and yet flawless too.

The enigma that is them.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

"So..." he murmured, bringing her mind back to the room. "Got some lovely souvenirs from our little adventure." She couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping her lips as his fingers toyed with hers. "You got yourself a nice shiner."

But her bruises, puffy cheek and black-eye - which was now a lovely shade of mustard and eggplant - were nothing compared to the numerous cuts and scrapes on his face, his own black eye - which matched hers in colour - his severely bruised abdomen, the three cracked ribs, and the six-inch gash in his right crus which got infected and had to be drained.

"Don't think you'll be doing any photo shoots any time soon, Castle."

"What?" he feigned resentment. "You don't think the black-eye makes me look macho?"

"For a hockey player, maybe," she grinned. "Writer, not so much."

"You wound me, detective," he smirked.

Her face suddenly became very serious, the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. "Not as much as Vales did."

Castle fell silent, unsure of how to broach the topic. After finding his bed linen terribly fascinating for several long seconds, his eyes lifted again to meet hers. "What happened out there?"

"I don't remember much," she began honestly. "There was rain, then there were voices, and-"

"Then we saved your asses..."

The partners' heads swung immediately at the sound of the Latino's voice, eyes locking on the figures of the boys filling the doorway.

"...again," Esposito added, holding out a fist for Ryan to bump.

"You guys got a thing for hypothermia that we don't know about?" the Irishman remarked, pounding his fist atop his partner's. "Cuz if you're planning an Arctic wedding, count me out."

"I hear you, Bro," Esposito nodded as he thumped Ryan's clenched hand, the two of them then whacking their own chests in unison.

Beckett couldn't help but smile - amused by their celebratory antics - but masked it dutifully with a roll of the eyes. She followed up with a slight canting of her head - and that was all they needed as a signal to enter, the two of them strutting into the room.

There was the mandatory ribbing by the boys, the gallows humour and wit flying like crazy, before they finally shared what they knew - helping Beckett fill in the blanks.

She couldn't believe it when she found out they'd been missing for four days. She needed to know the story. As did Castle.

Ryan recounted how they'd left the precinct late on Friday night since Beckett wanted to get the last of her paperwork finished before taking off for the night. It was her weekend off and the two of them...

"...were going to the Hamptons," she muttered to herself, "for a quiet weekend away."

"We were planning to leave straight from the precinct," Castle added, the memories flooding back.

"Yeah… Well, apparently you never made it," Ryan explained, continuing to note how nobody noticed they were even gone until Monday morning when Alexis began to wonder why they hadn't returned.

"She called us," Esposito noted, "thinking maybe you'd stayed an extra night in the Hamptons and come straight to work yesterday morning..."

"...and that's when we discovered that your car, Castle, was still parked in the lot down the street," Ryan added.

"Is it still there?" the writer interrupted.

"I think so, Bro," Esposito replied, his facial expression revealing his slight confusion. "Why?"

"Crap…" Castle muttered, "that's gonna be one hell of a parking bill."

Beckett pursed her lips together to suppress a laugh as Esposito just shook his head, a look of indignation in his eyes.

"Anyway..." Ryan continued dryly, "we started a search immediately, but came up empty…"

"...until we got an anonymous tip last night. Gave us coordinates that led us to Stokes State Forest in Sussex County, Jersey," the Latino nodded. "We called in the cavalry and started searching the woods early this morning."

"Rain made the search a bit challenging, and you guys were in pretty bad shape when we found you…"

"...especially you, Bro…"

"You've both been out cold pretty much all day."

Beckett and Castle peered at the boys, absorbing the insane amount of information - trying to use their own recollections to fill in any of the holes.

Castle's tired voice finally broke the silence. "An anonymous tip?"

"Yeah," Espo remarked. "We ran the number, but it was from a burner, so-"

"It was Vales," Beckett murmured. The three men simultaneously turned to face her.

"Caesar Vales?" Ryan queried.

"_That'_s the jackhole who took you?!" Esposito growled under his breath.

"He wanted you to find us," Beckett continued, speaking more to herself than to the boys - her eyes darting back and forth, mind racing as she tried to make the story make sense. "Wanted to make sure the NYPD would know it was him… and what he was capable of… but didn't want us dead... yet…"

"Well CSU is combing the forest now," the Latino explained. "If there's anything there, they'll find it,"

She knew there wouldn't be anything, but maybe…

"We were held in an underground bunker of some sort," Beckett added, looking at the boys, but she didn't even have to finish her thought. They knew what she wanted.

"On it," Ryan remarked. The two of them immediately rushed out the door, pulling their phones out of their pockets.

She turned back to face Castle, opening her mouth to speak, when she heard Esposito call sheepishly, "Um… glad you're okay," before he disappeared.

God, she loved those two.

Castle smiled softly as he closed his eyes, head pressing back into the downy pillow. "We're really here, right?" he whispered.

"Hmmm?" she hummed gently, smoothing her palm along his forearm.

"I'm not going to wake up and… find myself… back in the forest..." he murmured, the pain killers lulling him into a hazy slumber. "I'm not... gonna discover that this was... all a dream…"

"Get some sleep, Castle," she cooed tenderly, running her soft fingers along the rough stubble of his jaw.

"You gonna... be here… when... I... wake..." he mumbled before succumbing to a combination of fatigue and drugs.

She laced her fingers through his, wrapping his hand warmly between both palms. "Always."

* * *

They staggered through the front door of loft the following evening, utterly exhausted, but relieved to be home.

After ensuring that they were no longer in danger due to hypothermia or dehydration, there wasn't much else the hospital could do for them. Their multiple bruises, scrapes and scratches would heal with time. Kate would have to change the dressing on Castle's leg every day for the next week or so, and the attending physician insisted that Castle remain immobile for a few days to allow his ribs to set properly as they began to heal.

_'They don't know him very well_,' Beckett mused to herself, scoffing at the idea of Castle remaining sedentary for an extended period of time.

But if not moving was the quickest way for him to mend, she would do her best to keep him still - because she wanted them to be able to celebrate life in every way imaginable as soon as humanly possible.

And she definitely wanted him fully healed by the time their wedding - and their wedding night - rolled around, as it was only a few weeks away.

Beckett shut the door behind her as Castle hobbled towards the couch, leaning on a walking cane for support.

"Oh darlings, you're home."

Beckett glanced over at the stairs, smiling as she watched the Grand Dame herself descend the steps in her typical dramatic fashion, empty wine glass within her grip.

"Glad to see you didn't redecorate too much in our absence, Mother," Castle grinned as he settled himself on the couch, wincing slightly until he found a comfortable position.

"A bouquet of flowers on the center of the coffee table is_ not_ redecorating, Richard," the diva replied with a nonchalant wave of her hand as she picked up a bottle of Pinot Noir off the kitchen counter. "Besides," she continued, filling her glass, "they're not from me."

"Oh?" Beckett questioned as she traipsed over to the couch, her curiosity piqued.

"Apparently they arrived last night… the doorman brought them up…" Martha explained heading back to the staircase.

"Did he say who they were from?" Beckett wondered.

"I didn't ask," Martha replied, foot on the bottom step. "I just assumed they were from the precinct… but I think there's a card."

"Yeah…" Kate nodded, spotting the tiny envelope perched within the floral arrangement.

"But enough of that," the diva protested with a flourish, ascending the stairs. "I'll give you two some privacy. Upstairs if you need me."

"Thank you, Martha," the detective murmured, voice not at all betraying what was on her mind. She and Castle both glared at the small envelope before glancing back at each other.

Without a word, Beckett hesitantly reached forward, plucking the paper from within the bouquet and sat down on the couch beside her fiancé. Feeling Castle's stare burning the side of her face, she carefully opened the miniscule envelope and removed the tiny card.

She felt the heat of Castle's warm palm caress her thigh as she slowly opened the note. They both stared silently at the words written on the paper:

"_Welcome home. I hope to see you again... perhaps at your wedding."_

They both stared blankly at the ominous, unsigned note.

It was a long, awkward silence before Castle whispered, "Vales?"

"_Mm-hmm_," she replied flatly with an affirmative hum, eyes locked on the colourful flowers.

"Can we prove it?"

"Probably not."

"Threat?"

"Yep."

Castle nodded as he gingerly lifted the note from her fingers. He exhaled slowly through his nose as he looked at the scrawled words.

"So what's our next move?" he murmured.

Beckett sat silently for a moment - considering the full weight of his inquiry - before she pursed her lips together and steeled her glare. Rising from the couch, she wrapped her hand around the greenery, yanking the entire arrangement from the vase.

"This," was all she said as she traversed to the kitchen, marking her trail with small puddles of water that dripped from the soaked stems.

Castle said nothing as he watched his fiancée head towards the sink, turn on the tap, flick on the garburator, and proceed to methodically feed the flowers into the mulching blades - one by one - until the bouquet was completely obliterated.

Shutting off the device, she silently returned to the living room, sitting down once again on the couch as if nothing had happened.

His eyes twinkled brightly at her as she turned to meet his steady gaze.

"Vales isn't some criminal mastermind…" she replied to the question he didn't have to ask. "He's just a drug dealer… a thug in a fancy suit."

Castle remained silent and immobile, the comfortable quiet enclosing around them as his fingers twined with hers.

"And if he thinks he can frighten or intimidate me-"

"-he doesn't know you very well," Castle finished, his thumb gently stroking the inside of her palm.

"We'll get him, Castle," she promised, her voice low and serious as she leaned forward, her other hand caressing the side of his face tenderly, her slender fingers soothing the lacerations on his skin.

"Just not today…" he smiled as her mouth met his, a deep and tender promise of hope and forever brushing across their lips.

They weren't going to let fear win.

And that was enough for now.

* * *

**XXX**

* * *

**.**

**And with that, we've reached the end of the ride.**

**.**

**Thanks to everyone who stuck with me on this writing experiment. Really appreciated all your follows, favourites, reviews - but mostly your patience.**

**.**

**Stana once said: "Sometimes the good guys don't win."**

**Sad, but also very true... and that was my inspiration for the direction of this story.**

**.**

**So there you go… **

**Judge away.**


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